


If This Ain't Love, Then What Is?

by dannihowell (iguessicantry), itsnicenottobesoalone



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Child Abuse, Daddy Kink, Drug Abuse, Forced Prostitution, Half-Sibling Incest, Homelessness, Human Trafficking, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Sexual Abuse, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:32:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2645210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iguessicantry/pseuds/dannihowell, https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnicenottobesoalone/pseuds/itsnicenottobesoalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate universe in which Dan and Phil are brothers who fall in love under extreme conditions. After years of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, brothers Dan and Phil have to make a run for it. But, complicated feelings of brotherly love and something more cause separation and Dan finds himself in a brothel and Phil guilt ridden, on a quest to find him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

White walls. White sheets. White noise interrupted by incessant beeps. Hospitals make people feel sick. Phil feels sick sitting here next to the bed where Dan lies. There’s an IV in his left arm, bandages on his right. His veins are a road map. A nurse comes in to check Dan’s vitals and she asks if Phil has had a chance to go home since they brought him in. Phil shakes his head and rests his eyes on Dan. He won’t leave him. Not again, at least. Never again. 

When Dan is left alone, he does stupid things. He does things like this, and they wind up in places like this. Phil shakes his head again because watching Dan lie there so helplessly makes him want to scream. It makes him want to throw things and hurt people, because Dan is hurt and that’s just too much after everything else they’ve been through. This wasn't the plan, this was never the plan. Phil was supposed to protect him, he was supposed to help him and keep him out of harms way. But by the incessant drip of the IV that’s taunting him from his younger brother’s arm, Phil can tell his attempts were useless. The purple bruises that litter his brother’s thin body are too much of a reminder to Phil that some people can’t be helped. Some people are just destined for pain, and for the most part, Phil is okay with that. But not Dan, anyone but Dan.

Phil remembers the first time he ever saw Dan. He was about 3 hours old, sitting in a bassinet in the hospital’s nursery. Phil was three, almost four and it’s his earliest memory. He remembers when Mummy didn’t come home. He remembers screaming for her and no one coming to soothe him. Phil also remembers when he first felt protective of his baby brother. When Dan started crawling and their father forgot to close the door of Dan’s bedroom. Phil made sure his little brother didn’t fall down the stairs and get all bruised up or worse. As Phil got older, he started taking on more parental duties. Mum was gone and Daddy--Daddy needed Phil… That’s what he always said. “Daddy needs Phil.”

Dan wanted to feel needed though, he never felt like that around his father. Phil made him feel needed. Phil made him feel like he was the only star in the universe, always mothering him and playing with him. But some nights he noticed that Phil was distant with him, he didn’t want to play games or go outside. It was always after nights with their father that Phil would ignore Dan the most. Never entirely, heavens no, Phil needed to make sure Dan was safe from the same treatment. But Dan wanted that treatment, he wanted the love that Phil and their father shared. Phil was the only one allowed to call their father ‘Daddy’. Dan made the mistake of calling their father by that name, and Phil informed him that he couldn't say that. That word was a bad word, and it meant bad things. Few things in the world scared Dan so much as Phil’s face when he told him that. It was so empty and cold, not like the face Phil put on when he was playing with Dan. He battled with the thought in his head though, because when Phil called their father by that name, he got special treatment. Or at least that was what it looked like to Dan. So why wasn't he deserving of the same treatment? Why was Phil the only one who got attention? Care? Love?

When Dan stirs, Phil is already on his feet, grasping for the cup of water so he has something to drink. When he came in the doctors said he was severely dehydrated and Dan hadn’t eaten in a about a week. The IV is pumping nutrients in him and every so often a nurse delivers medicine into his veins to keep him asleep, to keep the pain away, dull the ache of withdrawal. Dan’s on heroin. Phil’s still not sure if Dan started on his own or it was his boss, his pimp, Dan’s ‘Daddy’ who got him started.

Dan remains asleep though. Phil returns to the chair and he starts to doze off. His dreams are volatile and blurry. They’re  filled with heavy hands and whispered commands. He dreams of a pillow forced over his face to swallow his screams. He sees rough chapped lips, feels piercing grey eyes on his body and hears skin slapping against skin, the sound is like bullets in his ears. Dan’s standing by the door, watching. Phil screams for him to hide, run away and hide. Phil’s dreams are all of the past. Phil’s dreams are the worst nightmares. They’re real.

Dan watched though, though his toddler years and through the most impressionable years of his youth. He watched their father love Phil more than him, spend more time with him, and care for him more too. That was what it was, right? It was love, it was affection, it was surely something Dan wasn't special enough to receive. Dan was jealous and couldn't hide it anymore. He would cry to Phil sometimes, shout others, every time demanding the truth as to why their father favored Phil. He never received an answer though, because Phil only wanted to shelter him from the truth, the horrible truth that it wasn't love. It wasn't affection and it sure as hell didn’t make him special when he got to spend ‘alone time’ with ‘Daddy’. Phil wouldn't let that happen to Dan, so sheltering him from the truth was the only remaining option. He couldn't fight Dan’s persistence through his youth, and as his jealousy and assertion got worse, so did his feelings. If their father didn’t want to love him, maybe Phil would. 

And so one night, after Phil and their father had their alone time, Dan found Phil in their room, crying under his duvet. He was bloodied as usual, and Dan crawled beneath the tattered blue and green mess to help wipe his tears. For the two, it was something done out of desperation. For Phil, it was his need for love, real love, not what their father gave him. For Dan, it was a need for attention, his need to be loved the same way Phil got to be loved every night. The kiss was brief, they were both so young still, but it let Phil escape for a moment, escape from everything that was wrong. 

 


	2. Daddy

Phil’s six and a half years old. His favorite color is red somedays and blue on others. He likes animals, likes petting them. He’s gentle, the teacher comments. He’s very gentle and very agreeable. ‘He’s a joy to have in the classroom,” she tells Daddy. He nods and thanks her. Phil waves goodbye as they leave the room. 

When they get home, Daddy has Phil grab him a beer from the fridge because he’s had a long day and wants to relax. Phil knows what that means and he’s already shaking as he hands the can over. 

“Come here, boy.” Phil shakes his head and starts to back up, away from the large man. But his father grabs his arm, pulling him onto his lap. Phil can feel it. God, he can feel it. 

Dan’s in the other room, playing with trains. He loves the trains. Phil showed him how to put the track together and everything. He loves playing with Phil since Phil knows everything and he’s really nice to Dan, lets Dan be the conductor, wear the special hat that the train set came with. Dan hears a squeak and his father’s rough voice and then a soft shushing noise. “It’s alone time,” he mumbles to himself and pouts. Dan’s three years old and Daddy said he can’t tell a soul or he’ll hurt Phil. Dan watches from behind the wall, peering with wide open eyes. Phil’s crying. He always cries.

Dan tried to understand as best he could what ‘alone time’ was, but Phil would always stop him before he thought too much about it. It wasn't his burden to bear. Dan wanted Phil to love him the way that their father loved Phil. It was supposed to be special, something that only the two of them had. 

When Phil turns eight years old, Daddy gives him a whole set of new trucks and cars to play with. The teachers still love Phil and Dan follows him around the playground now at recess. Phil’s his big brother and Phil still knows everything. Dan and Phil walk home in the rain one day. A car splashes them both with mud and they arrive home covered in it. Phil has Dan strip down to his knickers and sets their trousers in water like Daddy said to, so it doesn’t stain too bad. 

Phil tells Dan to put on another pair of trousers or his pajama bottoms. Dan shakes his head. 

“Aren’t you cold? Go put something on. You’ll catch cold.”

“Why can’t we just walk around in our pants, Phil?”

Phil knows why they can’t. He won’t let Daddy see Dan that way, let him get ideas. He’s eight. Phil thinks that if he can’t see it, he won’t think about. Daddy sees Phil almost every night. He figures Daddy thinks about him everyday, all day. Sometimes, in the dark night, he tells him as much.

“Go put something on now!” Phil orders. Dan’s lip starts to quiver. Five year olds never like loud noises and Dan thinks Phil doesn’t like him anymore. 

“But--But--.”

“Now! Before he comes home!”

Phil pushes Dan out of the washroom and into Dan’s bedroom where he quickly finds a pair of shorts. Phil had Dan step into them and he drags them up his brother’s body roughly. Dan’s still pouting when Daddy comes home. 

“Evening,” their father mumbles when he comes home. Phil says, “Hello, Daddy” in his obedient manner. Dan just stares at the two of them. His father asks, “Don’t you have any manners? Say hello when an adult addresses you.” 

Dan’s face doesn’t so much as move, he stares straight ahead. Phil’s in the kitchen when he hears the tell-tale sound of a belt buckle’s clicking and Dan’s whimpering noises. He sounds like puppy. He runs into the living room fearing the worst, tears already appearing at the rim’s of his eyes. Daddy starts beating Dan, belt to bottom.

“Stop! Please!” Phil begs. 

Dan’s shrieks and cries are accentuated by alternating thwacks to his backside. Their father says nothing, only grunts leave his mouth. 

“Stop! He’s mad at me! Don’t hurt him. It’s my fault!”

Daddy stops. He pushes Phil into the bedroom and closes the door. 

Dan crawls into bed with Phil that night. Phil’s asleep, laying on his stomach like he does after a night with Daddy. His bum hurts too much. 

“Next time let him hit me. It doesn’t really hurt as much as I make it seem.”

“No,” Phil mutters. “Go to sleep.”

“Can I get a good night kiss?”

Phil opens his eyes and see Dan’s pleading ones and that little smile he can’t say no to, no matter how much everything hurts. “Yeah,” he agrees, letting Dan kiss his cheek and nuzzle into his neck.

“Do you like it when Daddy does that to you?”

“Never use that word again. I told you before.”

“Sorry.”

Dan still doesn’t understand it. What word?

When he’s older, when he’s eight, Dan thinks maybe it was that bad word, ‘Daddy’. So Dan used it again one day, he calls Phil ‘Daddy’ and he doesn’t expect the retaliation that he receives. A sharp smack across the mouth was all he needed to understand that this was obviously something he was not meant to be a part of, just like all the other things. The father son outings, the special movie nights, everything that proved their father loved Phil more. Their father didn’t love Dan the same way, and the older he got, the more Dan came to terms with that. But Phil loved Dan, Phil loved Dan a lot and that much was obvious. So why didn’t Phil show love to him the way their father would show love?

“I told you, don’t use that word!” Dan could feel the anger boiling up inside him. He wanted to be loved too, and this word would bring love, it always did for Phil. He wanted Phil’s love, wanted it almost more than the love of their father.

“Why not, Phil? Daddy loves you when you call him that, why can’t I call you that? I want you to love me too!” That stopped Phil in his tracks. His mind desperately tried to make sense, until he snapped. In moments he had his younger brother pinned beneath him, his own hot and angry breath coming out in short huffs against the tanned and defiant face beneath him.

“That is not love. What he does is not love, Dan! Don’t ever ask for that, okay?” They went back to calm voices and steady breathing then, a new understanding between them. Phil pulled his brother into his arms, trying desperately to hug away the stink of their dirty family laundry that was beginning to cling itself to Dan. He loved his brother, so much, sometimes more than he thought he should, but their relationship was good. It was relatively healthy and it kept them both sane. That was all they needed right now, to stay sane.

So much had changed in this way when it came to Dan’s attitude. His feelings for Phil have evolved so much that they honestly scare the older of the two. He would be lying if he said he had never thought of Dan that way, they were the world to each other, in a way it was natural to feel that way. But Dan is only eight, a child still, albeit one who has seen things no adults should even have to witness. Phil can't think of his brother that way, and he certainly can’t allow him to begin thinking that way. He doesn't know what love is, and he sure as hell doesn't know what their father does. It upsets Phil so much to think that Dan might actually want that treatment, and from him none the less. It sends violent chills down his spine and makes him wretch that the mere thought of doing that to his brother, his sweet innocent brother. Dan asks for things though, he asks for simple things that sometimes, Phil doesn't mind giving him. 

When Daddy is gone, Phil will cuddle Dan, they’ll lay in bed for hours at a time, cherishing the moments of peace and calm before that madman arrives home from work or the bars, wherever he was that day. Sometimes it’s more though, kisses on the cheeks becoming a little more. Dan wants to kiss Phil the same way Daddy kisses Phil, and the thought makes Phil want to scream and push Dan away. But he can't do that, it would be too cruel. He knows that his little brother is just confused, and he says he wants love but he can’t possibly understand what love is. Still, comfort, even in the form of something so wrong, starts to look good to Phil. So he gives in sometimes, he lets Dan give him kisses on the mouth, little ones, but they feel just as filthy. It isn't Dan’s fault though, because Phil loves the way Dan’s lips feel against his own even if he isn't sure why. It feels like home in a way.

It doesn’t get easier though the older they get, because Dan is ten now and Phil is thirteen and things have easily only gotten harder. Dan wants more from Phil, those innocent kisses have become like a drug to him, he craves them, and worse yet, he craves more than them most days. But Dan is still young, at least to Phil, and he doesn't understand sometimes why Dan is so insistent on having kisses and touches from Phil. Cuddling is fine, Phil enjoys it because it helps him escape. Even the kissing wouldn't be so bad if Dan didn’t try taking it further every time, his tongue always trying to push through Phil’s pursed lips until Phil has to practically shove his brother away. Dan doesn't really understand either, but he knows he’s growing jealous of the way Daddy always looks at Phil. He was jealous when he was young, but that was because he thought Daddy loved Phil more. He’s come to terms with that and now he’s jealous because Daddy has Phil and in his mind, Phil belongs to him. He wants Phil to touch him the way Phil gets touched by Daddy, the way he’s seen too many times to count. He wants to make Phil make those weird sounds that Daddy makes, and in his ten year old mind, he doesn't understand that those aren’t noises Daddy should be making with Phil. But its love, it’s attention, and that’s all Dan really wants. Those sounds are love sounds, that’s what Daddy called them one day. Phil cries every time Daddy makes those sounds though, Dan can always hear him. It’s scary to think that Daddy hurts Phil, and all Dan wants is to make Phil happy again, to make him hurt less.

“Dan you have to be quiet remember? He can hear us if you’re too loud.” Phil whispers to Dan in their closet, the one they’ve been hiding in for the past hour. Daddy came home drunk again, and while Dan offered to take the beatings, Phil decided to hide them and save them both the pain. Their father would soon pass out, so they only had to wait it out a bit longer. The sound of bottles smashing could still be heard plain as day in the kitchen, and with every ear splitting crack, Phil only held Dan tighter against him.

“I’m scared Phil. What if he tries to hurt you again?”

“Don’t think about that okay? Just think about this, one day, we won’t have to live here anymore. One day I’ll get a job and save some money and get us away from here. Does that sound good?” He feels Dan nod against him, the small pressure of his cheek on his chest indicating he’s smiling. The two wait it out a few minutes longer, until they hear the final bottle break and the television being turned down. Daddy has finally passed out and that means they’re safe for a few hours. Dan peels himself back from his older brother’s embrace, looking him dead in the eye before leaning forward and catching his lips with his own. They do this so often, sometimes Phil forgets that Dan is his brother. But once again, Dan tries to go too far. The space in the closet is limited and that means there isn't much room for Phil to push Dan away this time. But the more Dan presses himself against Phil, the more Phil begins to enjoy the sensation. It’s so different from Daddy, its gentle, kind of fun and exciting. He doesn't fight it this time when Dan manages to snake his tiny tongue between his lips, mingling with his own in a sloppy fashion, but that’s to be expected. It doesn't last long though before Phil is gasping for air and Dan is in a fit of giggles.

“C’mon, let’s get up and grab some snacks while he’s still asleep, yeah?” Phil whispers in the dark, barely seeing Dan nod in agreement. They’ve managed to keep this relationship a secret and Phil wants to keep it that way. Because the less Daddy knows about the way Phil loves Dan, the better. Daddy doesn’t like competition and Phil knows that. Dan would get hurt badly if Daddy ever found out that Phil shares kisses with Dan too.

The worst of it all was that nothing got better until the last day either of them saw their father. It’s raining, and Phil can hear the pattering of the raindrops against the curtained window in his room. He gets up to notice that Dan isn't there though, his side of the bed having been slept in though at least. It’s no later than nine in the morning, but something about the way the air hangs in the house, the calm that’s almost too quiet makes him lurch out of bed to find his little brother. He can hear his father’s booming voice coming from the lounge area, but it has a sickening softness to it, the same kind he hears every night until the pain wracking its way through his lower body becomes so much he nearly passes out. Phil can feel his heart beating hard, the blood flowing so quickly he swears he can hear it in his ears and he knows for a fact that Dan is with their father and something bad is happening if it hasn't already happened. He stumbles his way out of his room, down the hallway and finds the sight that sickens him so much he feels himself gagging. Dan is leaned against the cracked counter in the kitchen, a blissful and perhaps slightly drunk look on his face as their father runs his grubby hands up his shirt, that disgustingly sweet voice coming out in a low grumble. 

Everything goes black, Phil can’t control his actions and he feels himself tackling their father, throwing him to the ground and screaming, louder than he knew his voice could ever be. He can feel the empty vodka bottle in his hand, whose contents were probably lacing Dan’s lips still at this moment, and he sees the spurt of blood that erupts from the vein in his father’s forehead as the bottle collides with it. Seconds pass that feel like minutes, and he know’s Dan is shouting and crying, begging him to stop, his eyes red and his cheeks so flustered and tear stained that it breaks his heart. He can’t hear the words that are bubbling from his mouth though with every sob, his ears are ringing and his vision is tunneled on Dan’s face.

** Everything moves too quickly, Phil is pulling Dan along to their room, throwing him a duffle bag and telling him to grab only what’s necessary, which ends up not being much. Phil steals his unconscious father’s wallet away to pull what little cash he has out of it, stuffing it in his pocket before grasping Dan’s arms and hauling him out the door. He can hear Dan a little clearer now as they run down the nearly abandoned street, heading nowhere but anywhere that is away from this place, away from him. Daddy can’t have Dan, and Phil won't let it happen, not on his life. Disappearing down the street, the glow of the early morning sun on their backs, Phil takes Dan away, running far away from harm. **


	3. Baby

It's early morning when the shelter has to be cleared out. Dan and Phil have been living in and out of shelters for almost three months. After what had happened at home, Phil couldn't allow Dan to suffer the way he did. Phil is his big brother and, yes he loves him in more than a brotherly way but this is Dan. Dan has to be protected. 

As the other people in the shelter gather their belongings, Phil shakes Dan awake. 

"It's time to go. Come on, Dan."

Dan's eyes slowly flutter open and the cot beneath him creaks as he shifts. "I'm tired," he mumbles to his brother. Phil shrugs and clutches his stomach. He's hungry and living this way means they have no way of knowing when they'll get their next meal. Phil stays strong though. He's been through worse. 

After they've finally packed up their blankets, extra clothes and shoes into Phil's dufflebag, Dan and Phil leave the shelter (a high school gymnasium) and begin their walk around the city.

It's a fifteen minute walk to the local fresh food market. Phil straightens Dan's hair and checks to see how bad they really smell before approaching. He doesn't want them to appear suspicious. They look tired, dirty and penniless so the owners of the fruit stands will pay special attention to them if they don't take precautionary measures. 

Phil hides behind a building as Dan, who still looks like he's no older than 12, makes his way into the crowd of shoppers and fruit peddlers. The market is busy, typical of a saturday morning, so he finds it easy to blend in. He approaches a stand with gala apples stacked in neat pyramids. A women, with a baby strapped to her chest asks the vendor for the price of a pound, resulting in a dispute over the ridiculous prices of fruit.

Dan takes this opportunity to take two apples and stuff them in his pockets, eyeing the vendor to make sure he can’t see him. The apples feel heavy in his pockets, the weight of them pulling him down in his hungry, sullen state. 

“Oi, kid!” a voice yells. “Put them back! I saw you take them. You ain’t paid for ‘em!”

Dan bolts as fast as he can from the market, passing Phil as he’d been told to do if he ever got caught. He keeps running, makes various turns and eventually cutting through a park and hiding in the bushes. Dan’s a least six blocks from the market and he’s certain the vendor wouldn’t have followed him this far for two small apples only worth £1.50. 

Phil finds him not too long after as this is the spot they agreed on when they started stealing to survive.

“Are you alright?”

Dan nods and takes the stolen goods out of his pocket. “I couldn’t get anymore. He must have been watching me as soon as I got there.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Phil assures him. “I’ll find us something later. We’ll have to lay low for a bit. You caused a lot of trouble at the market. There were women weeping, babies crying--”

“Be quiet, Phil!” Dan giggles. Phil loves the sound of his brother’s laughter. It’s a sign that maybe this isn’t the wrong decision. Maybe leaving home and getting Dan away from Daddy wasn’t stupid and ill planned. Phil knows for certain that if Daddy has his way, Dan would never laugh again.

It’s night time now, the city air is chilled and thick with smoke and chattering from lingering pedestrians exiting bars and motels. The city sickens Dan most days, but tonight there’s something strangely calming about it. He’s shivering outside an abandoned building, the place Phil told him to wait at until he returned. They usually had each other’s backs during times they needed to steal to survive, but Phil insisted Dan would be recognized if he went back to the produce stands again, which left him to go on his own. Dan felt guilty but knew Phil would take care of them, he was older, and managed to look healthier and better off, so no one watched him when he went into stores. Phil always managed to steal more, he was the provider between them, and as grateful as that made Dan feel, he wanted to help. He’s only fourteen and barely able to keep himself out of trouble, Phil doesn't expect him to be able to take care of them on his own, and he loves taking care of Dan because he needs to protect him, he loves him and wants to keep him safe. But it’s been over an hour and Dan is scared that Phil got caught, he’s scared that he’s alone at a police station and they’re hurting him.

“C’mon Phil…where are you?” He whispers out through chattering teeth, his thin arms wrapped tightly around his frail frame. He feels his stomach growl and struggles to remember the last time either of them had a decent meal that didn’t consist of cheap soup and stale bread. Steps come up behind him, they're heavy and sound intimidating. His heart quickens and Dan turns to find himself face to face with a tall, overly-build looking man. His eyes are cold and his smile is too toothy to be comforting. He reeks of cheap whiskey and Dan feels his stomach drop. This is how he dies, he’ll be brutally murdered and Phil will find his mangled corpse and his heart will break and it’ll be all Dan’s fault for not getting more of those stupid apples. He clenches his eyes shut in preparation for the beating he’s sure to receive, until he feels chilled rough fingers on his chin, gently lifting his face. He opens his eyes, which are red from lack of decent sleep and finds the man is surveying his face, as though he’s looking over a car he wants to buy.

“Oh, you’ll do…Wanna make some money, baby?” The man purrs, his voice rough and his breath thick with the scent of alcohol, a scent Dan remembers far too well.

“What do you m-mean?” He whimpers, still terrified of the firm grip the man has on his face. He has a sickening idea of what the stranger means though, and he isn't sure whether he likes it, or wants to run away screaming.

“I have some, er, friends ya see. They’re willing to pay quite a good deal of money, but only if I find someone pretty to entertain them, see? You’re quite the catch…wanna make a little money? There’s something good in it for you if you do well.” It didn’t sound so bad, maybe his friends would be nice, and Dan couldn't deny that he and Phil needed money; they needed it bad. If he was gone and back before Phil returned, then he wouldn't have to know how he got the money, it would be easy. He nodded as well as he could still being in the man’s grubby hand, and immediately received a dark chuckle before a sharp pain spread across his face as he was struck by the man’s other hand. Slipping into darkness was the last thing he remembered, his weak voice whimpering out Phil’s name as his mind went blank.

Phil returns an hour later to the abandoned warehouse and can’t find Dan. Where is Dan? 

“Dan?” he calls. “Dan?!”

“‘m here,” a weak voice whimpers from behind the dumpster. Phil drops to his knees when he sees Dan on the ground, shirt torn and nose bloodied. 

“What happened to you?!” Phil panics. He can’t help but think that someone tried to rob his little brother or worse.

“I have money, Phil,” he says in reply. “They gave me one hundred and fifty quid.”

“For what?!” Phil asks loudly, practically shouting at Dan. “Who gave you that money?”

Dan brings his knees up to his chin and holds the wad of cash up so that Phil can see just how much it is. In the dim light of the streetlamp, Phil can only see his little brother hurt, shaking and bleeding.

“Answer me!” Phil orders, bending down to force Dan’s chin upwards to look into his eyes. 

“The man,” Dan whimpers. “He came and said if I did something, I could make some money.”

“What did you have to do?” Phil’s eyes are straining not to cry as he can already assume what Dan did. There’s a white spot on his shirt that wasn’t there before.

“I only used my mouth and hands!” Dan protests, seeing the look on his brother’s face. “It’s not so bad. You and Daddy do it all the time!”

“Shut up!” Phil shouts. “Shut up! You don’t know what you did Dan! You let them use you like that?!”

“It’s not that bad!”

“Get up!” Phil demands, dragging Dan up the brick and mortar wall of the warehouse. He holds Dan up against the wall, at his shoulders and tells him, “No one is supposed to do that to you. I’m trying to protect you from this life!”

“You just want to keep all the attention!” Dan shouts back. “And now, when I get money for what you’ve been doing for free, it just hurts you!”

Phil smacks him clear across his face but stops him from falling over. “You had sex with them. You’re cheating on me!”

“Cheating?” Dan cries and shakes his head furiously. “Phil, I-I never thought about it like that. You and Daddy did--”

“Stop saying that!”

“What?! Tell me why you’re so mad at me. I had to do it for us!”

“I can take care of us. You do not have to do /that/!”

“You hurt me. That’s all you do!” Dan counters. “I’m hungry all the time and cold! I wanna go home!”

“Do you know what home means, Dan? I saw what he was gonna do to you. Do you want to be  raped?! Huh?”

“No,” he whispers.

“That’s what he does to me, Dan! He rapes me and I couldn’t let him start with you. I have to protect you. That’s what Mum would have wanted,” he all but blubbers. “Don’t sell yourself. Promise me!”

Dan shakes his head, tears streaming down his dirty cheeks. 

“Promise me!” Phil demands.

But Dan won’t promise him, and the last time Phil sees him was when he walked away, shivering violently as he disappeared behind what appeared to be an abandoned building. He’s seen Dan a few times, fleeting glances but he’s seen him and knows he’s alive. He doesn't look much better than the last time he saw him though, there are more bruises on his face and he looks thinner if anything. Dan never sees Phil though, he always has his head down as he gets into mysterious cars and disappears again, flying off too fast for Phil to trace. He knows where Dan lives though, and he tries every few nights to get in and see him. It’s a rundown brothel of sorts, operating out of a used up old building with cracks in the bricks and the strong smell of something foul radiating from somewhere inside. He sees hookers come and go from the building, some so old looking Phil can't help but bitterly laugh, and some younger than Dan and that breaks his heart. Phil is never able to get in though, because as soon as he manages to jiggle the door handle enough to pop the lock, a large man with calloused hands is shoving him onto the pavement, an unsettling snarl on his face as he tells him to not so politely ‘fuck off’.

Phil wants to save Dan though, he’s seen what those other women and few men look like, they all look so strung out and helpless. They’re on drugs and hard ones too, and Phil can’t help the sickening twisting in his stomach that isn't from lack of a nutritious meal, no, he knows for a fact that Dan is partaking in those drugs, whether willingly or not. But he can't see Dan, and that means he can't save him. He’s tried to call the police before, but they have more important things to do than break up a brothel and honestly, Phil doubts they even believe him. There’s one person who might though, but he isn't sure she even remembers Dan or himself. He’s found some loose change outside a rundown looking gas station and stumbles his way to the nearest call box, ringing the number he’s had saved on a scrap of paper in his wallet for years. Unfortunately he never had the presence of mind to call their aunt when they were in trouble with their father, but Dan needs help and she’s the last person who might care enough about him to do anything. The other end rings for several rounds, and Phil is close to giving up until he hears a violent smoker’s cough come through, and a crackly voice to match it.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Aunt Izzy? It’s Phil, do you remember me?” He gasps out, unaware of the breath he’s been holding the entire time.

“Of course I do, you and Daniel are my brother’s boys right?” Her voice is thick with old smoke and it’s never been inviting, but today it feels even less so.

“Yes, yes. Aunt Izzy…I need to tell you something,” And Phil launches into the story of how their daddy abused him sexually, and how he was going to start with Dan but they ran away. He tells her that they’ve been living on the streets and they’re starving and Dan’s run away. He tells her that he’s working for a pimp and on serious drugs. But the silence on the other end of the line is unsettling to Phil while he waits for her response.

“…I-I don’t believe this. You rotten little liar! My brother would never, / never/  hurt you ungrateful brats! And don’t feed me this homeless line! You’re rotten attention seekers just like that whore mother of yours! You’re lucky he even kept you around after she died! Never call here again you worthless little prick!” And the line went dead, and Phil can feel the tears threatening to overflow.  That was the last out, she was the one who was supposed to save them. He hangs up the phone and lets the sobs wrack his body, because now Dan is gone for good and he doesn't know how to protect his little brother for the first time in his life.

 


	4. Home

Heavy hands and loud voices are all Dan knows. He lives in a dream state, high on heroin and weak from hunger. His cognition is destroyed, his body bruised and his voice lost. 

A bed creaks and he winces as another man pulls out of him much too quickly, leaving a string of cum and other fluids to hang between the two bodies. The men he sees never use protection, only their filthy hands and mouths and bodies. 

“I’ll be back,” this one says in a posh accent, before getting up and pulling on his clothes. Dan’s vision is blurry and his stomach aches empty. His legs fall to the mattress from the position they were held in for what has to be an hour. He whimpers because everything fucking hurts.

The door opens and shuts and Dan’s left alone with his confusing, confounding thoughts. Where’s Phil? he thinks. Where is Phil? Why can’t I find Phil? Dan wants to scream but he can’t gain control of his mouth, his tongue and all of a sudden he feels a smack across his face. 

“You lazy little fucker! Get up! Now!” a man shouts.

“Daddy,” Dan mumbles in response. “I’m sorry Daddy.”

“You’ll be sorry if you don’t get arse in gear! There’s someone waiting on you. You’ll be staying the night with him.”

“But Daddy--”

Another hard smack sure to leave a mark. His pimp is ruthless, doesn’t like back talk and what he says goes. Dan stumbles to his feet, picking up the thin rags of his clothing from the ground and sliding them on to his broken body. 

When Dan almost trips of his feet, his pimp grabs his arm to yank him closer. Taking his chin roughly, he tells Dan, “Look at me!”

Dan forces his eyes open to meet the silver piercing ones of his Daddy. 

“I need you to be a good boy for this one, alright? He’s rich and he’s got a lot of rich friends who like them young like you. Make Daddy proud. You got that?”

Dan whispers, “Yes.”

“Yes what?!”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“You know that I love you. Right, Baby?”

“Yes, I love you too.”

“And that’s why I let you get all the best johns. I don’t want anyone dirty inside my baby. You know this is all for you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“What do you want, Baby?” the pimp asks, with a sneer as he practically strangles Dan’s scarred arms.

“P-Please… I need a-another hit. It hurts,” Dan explains.

The pimp chuckles darkly before taking the boy into a deep kissing, forcing him up against the wall. After he’s done playing with Dan’s head, whispering love and promises into his ears, the pimp hands Dan a small baggie of white powder. Dan pulls away and heads over to the nightstand to pull out rubber tubing to wrap around his upper arm and syringe to pierce his skin and vein.

“Slow down, baby. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Help me, Daddy.”

The man lets out another dark chuckle before assisting Dan. The drugs are quick when injected and Dan’s immediately filled with a rush. He’s thrown into a black SUV and closes his eyes as the high overtakes his senses with a wide smile. He vaguely murmurs, “Phil.”

\------

Phil scours the city for quick paying work, winding up at a community center where a kind round woman offers him a small job cleaning up debris from construction sites. It pays decently and they don’t require a background check, so Phil takes it without asking any questions. He’s only working because he needs to see Dan, and the only way he sees Dan is if he has money. Money…it seems like that was the problem in the first place once they left. If Phil had only managed to find this simple work earlier on, he thinks he may have been able to keep Dan safe then. He mentally kicks himself for the umpteenth time that day, and wipes fresh tears from his cheeks as he sets off to the site to begin his work.

It’s long and laborious, and he wants to quit sometimes because the construction workers ignore him and make him feel lower than the earth because he’s homeless. They don’t know his story though, they think he’s here to get money for drugs or alcohol, but he’s not. He’s here for a much sicker reason he bitterly thinks. He’s here because his little brother, who he loves as more than that, is being beaten and drugged by a pimp into sleeping with other men. He’s here because he wants his best friend and soulmate back, he needs to save him. These men know nothing of Phil’s life, and every judgmental look they cast him only make him work harder to relieve himself and Dan of ever having a judgmental look thrown their way again.

He’s paid a decent sum, one hundred quid for the day’s work, and they tell him to come back again if he needs the money, they think he’s a hard worker. He bitterly smiles, knowing they think he’s scum, but they need a packhorse and he’ll do. Running as fast as his weakened body will allow, he finds the broken down brothel building and teeters from foot to foot outside the doors. He hopes that the money he has, all the money he has to his name right now, will be at least enough for a few minutes of Dan’s time. As long as he gets a shot at stealing him away from this  place, then he’s done his job. The intimidating man who threw him out last time meets him at the door and gives him a mildly disgusted look.

“P-Please…I have one hundred on me, it’s all I have…Dan, I need to see Dan.” He gasps out, so out of breath from his day’s work and running all that way. The man doesn't answer him, but gives him a curt nod, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Phil hasn't showered in, well he can't remember the last time he showered. The man stops him though, pressing his sweaty hand to Phil’s rising and falling chest.

“You can't have ‘im though, alright? You’re filthy, kid. He’s a treasure that one, and I don't need you gettin’ him all grubby. You got ten minutes, okay?” His voice is thick with authority and his breath reeks of something foul, perhaps a few rotting teeth if Phil is being honest. He nods though, honestly glad he isn't getting much more time. He needs the very minimum amount of time with Dan, any more conversing between them would only raise suspicion.

He is led to a dark room, a faint and weakly glowing table lamp the only source of light for the entire area. It smells bad, really bad and Phil resists gagging once he steps foot inside. The walls are peeling and stained yellow. The air is thick with a sour smell, body odor and something else Phil isn't sure about. He can barely see his own hands in front of his face, but the small lamp illuminates a huddled figure on a broken looking bed. The mattress is ripped and the stuffing is popping out, the blankets are stained with sickening white splotches and it makes Phil feel sick to look at. The huddled figure begins to shift weakly, and a croaky voice comes out from the disgusting mass of blankets.

“Daddy?” The elder’s heart drops, knowing that even though it is very tired and unhealthy sounding, it’s his brother’s voice and that means he’s alive. For now anyway. The name he’s called though makes his stomach lurch and he realizes that Dan doesn't recognize him right now. Collapsing at the bedside, Phil takes his brother’s hand, its cold and veiny but it’s responsive as he curls his tanned and scabbed fingers around Phil’s pale ones. His eyes are blood shot and barely responsive. His lips are chapped and pale, and Phil wants nothing more than to cradle his brother and beg his forgiveness.

“I’m here, Dan! It’s me, it’s Phil! We need to get you up though, we need to get you out of here!” He whispers, not wanting to warrant any unwanted attention. Dan shakes his head though, he doesn't know anyone named Phil, at least in his drug induced state of mind. He tugs his hand away from Phil’s grasp and shuffles back on the bed, trying desperately to get away from the strange man in front of him. Phil tries to take Dan’s hand again, his arm, anything to get him to come with him. It’s too much and Dan can’t process what’s happening, so he does what he knows and screams out for his pimp, for his daddy.

“Daddy! Daddy help me!” His eyes are wide and his pupils blown, his hands wringing themselves as he cries out. The effects of the heroine are hurting his head and he’s afraid of this person in front of him who calls himself Phil. In seconds, the scary looking Pimp who honestly doesn't like Phil, is at the foot of the bed.

“What the fuck did you do?!” Phil shakes his head, his hands going up in defense of himself.

“Daddy I don’t know him, he’s scaring me!” Dan sounds like a frightened child and Phil can’t help but notice the way Dan seems dependent on his man. He’s treating him like a father and it makes him sick. Firm hands are gripping his collar and Phil feels himself being lifted off the ground, hateful words mumbled at him as Dan’s face retreats from his gaze. He can hardly process what’s happening before he feels cold concrete beneath his pained body.

“If I ever see your face again, I swear to God I’ll tear it off, got it?” And with that he’s alone again, cold and afraid. What had happened? He was so close to saving Dan, if he had just been sobered up, not on that sick drug, they might be running away down the street right now, off to safety or at least a clean shelter. But Dan was up in that god-awful building selling his body because he didn’t know any better right now. And Phil couldn't think of anything else to do, because he had nothing left to live for if he didn’t have Dan.

 


	5. Party

Phil hasn’t seen Dan in about a year. He’s alone but he’s alright. He has a job as a custodian at a secondary school, he got through his aunt, who finally believed his claims about years of abuse. He’d gone to see her and suffice it to say, she was shocked. He was thinner than any boy should be and before she could even say come in, Phil had told her “Dan’s is trouble. Your nephew is in trouble.”

After having him come inside, his aunt sat him down and asked what exactly he meant. Phil had told her, “We had to run away because our father was going to… He was going to hurt Dan. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“What do you mean hurt?” she asked, taking a seat across from him in her small sitting room.

Phil gripped the arms of the chair and looked her straight in the eye. “Ever since I was a small, Dad’s been forcing himself on me.”

“H-He raped you? Are you telling me that my brother did that to you? You still telling those awful lies?”

“Yes--No. Can you help me? Please, I’m your nephew.”

“Phil, you are not my nephew. You never have been,” she spat.

Phil took a step back in disbelief. “What are you talking about? My father is your brother.”

“Jesus… He is not your real dad. Your whore of a mother had you with some other bloke before she trapped my brother with Dan.They got married and you became his. Simple as that. Though I always told him, he should have given you away.”

“Dad isn’t my dad?”

“No. Are we done?”

“No! Please. So Dan is your family? Your flesh and blood?” Phil asked.

“Yes. So?”

“We need your help. He’s in trouble. Someone’s taken him and he’s selling himself. He’s on heavy drugs too. The last time I saw him, he couldn’t recognize me.”

“Where is he?”

“Somewhere in the city… unless they’ve moved him. I’ve gone to the police but they do not believe me. They think he’s just another runaway, which I guess is true but he’s being kept against his will and I know you don’t believe me but I lived through it. I am not lying--”

“Philip, please,” she interrupted. “I knew I should have checked on you after your mother passed. I knew something was wrong. The way he kept you boys to himself.”

“You won’t tell him I’ve come to you?” Phil pleaded.

“No. But you can’t stay on the streets. I won’t hear of it. You’ll stay here. It’s the least I can do. I should h-have been--”

“Aunt Isabelle, it’s too late for that. Please do not blame yourself. We have to find Dan.” Phil still had a hard gaze on the woman, urging her silently to act now; Dan’s needs them.

“Let me show you where you can stay. The room is just back here,” she said, ignoring his last statement. Phil gave into her avoidance manoeuvre and nodded, getting up to follow behind her.

Now, a year later, they still have no clue where Dan could be. Phil gets up every weekday and goes to work. He avoids the gaze of the students for fear of spotting a boy with brown fringe and brown eyes that look all too familiar. Phil’s quiet and keeps to himself. He does his job and returns to his aunt’s home.

It’s a Saturday when he sees Dan, on the street, going into a hotel, surrounded by a group of other young boys and girls. He looks so different now. A little taller, lankier, sicker than ever before. Phil watches but doesn’t approach the group as there are large, muscular men leading them inside. They all look intimidating, full of anger just ready to burst and Phil isn’t even sure if Dan will come to him if goes in and grabs him.

Phil waits.

\------

“Up against the wall! All of you!” Ivan, his pimp, shouts at them. Dan doesn’t even wince anymore. He’s used to the treatment. His high is dissipating but it doesn’t hurt yet.

“Listen up, whores!” he bellows. “You will do whatever these men tell you to do. They’ve paid for a night of fun and you’re all going to give it to them.”

A half-drunken man enters the room, his tie undone and a bottle of wine in between his fingers. “They’re all so pretty,” he murmurs to Ivan, who smiles back.

“I like this one,” the man says, pointing to a girl, no older than fifteen. She’s pale, redheaded and blue-eyed. Bruises mar her skin already so when the man grabs her, she shrieks, prompting a firm smack across the face from Ivan.

“Shut up!” he screams at her.

She weeps openly but tries desperately to silence herself. Her name is Irina. She’s from Poland and she doesn’t remember how she ended up in England. The last thing she remembers is going to rave in the city, against her parents orders and then darkness. She spoke near-perfect english so when she first arrived, Dan could understand her during his sober moments.

Now, as she screams, he wants to cower into the corner. Everything is too loud and he doesn’t remember how he got here. Not the hotel; just here, still in this body, still living. Everything hurts too. He swears even the tips of his eyelashes ache.

He’s remembering happiness. What did that feel like? Warm kisses under a duvet and giggling in sunlight. ‘I love you’s from pink lips that never told lies. Warm caresses from hands that never struck with anger; only touched with tenderness. Dan’s remembering the end of that happiness too.

 

He’d woken up that morning and wanted a drink of water from the kitchen. Dad was sitting at the kitchen table. Dan entered the room quietly, not wanting to disturb the man.

“What are you here for?” he asked, in a low growl.

“‘m thirsty. Wanted a drink of water,” Dan answered.

“Let me get it for you,” he offered. Dan smiled politely, letting the man get in front of him to reach for a cup and fill it with water from the faucet. When the cup was filled, the man turned around and gestured to Dan to take the small glass from him. As the boy did so, his father pulled it away, teasing him. Dan giggled uneasily, not sure what this was exactly. His father barely ever spoke more than three words to him at a time; usually “Where is Phil?”

“Say that you love Daddy,” his father hummed. “Say it and I’ll let you have a drink.”

Dan could have easily turned around, went into the bathroom and got a drink there but something was keeping him here. Was it the way his father smiled at him, the same way he smiled at Phil? Was it the innate need to seek approval? Or was it the word love, used in such a way that betrayed its meaning?

“I love you,” Dan finally mumbled.

“What was that, boy?”

“I love you,” he said, this time more clearly.

“Manners…” his father reminded him.

“I love you… Daddy.”

“That’s right. And you know what? Daddy loves you too.” The man handed over the glass to his youngest son with a dark smile. Once Dan had finished the drink and moved to put it in the sink, his father suddenly had his hands on Dan’s hips, bending him over the counter, kissing across his shoulders. He began murmuring messages of love and security, giving Dan an almost drunken pleasure. He’d wanted this his entire life. This is what love is to him; incestous, disgusting touches in the kitchen.

But then there was movement and Phil and then they were packing a bag and running away.

 

* * *

 

 

Phil kept saying he needed to protect him. Phil was going to protect Dan. So where was he now?

“We’ll have fun with you. You’ll do just fine,” another man in a suit says, looking over Dan and pulling him into the next room where there was at least a dozen men, half dressed or completely naked.

He is told to strip, called dirty names, forced down onto his knees and told to suck. There is a camera and there are men laughing but Dan was in another world, one with train sets, action figures and long days on the playground.

Phil is moving at a million miles a second in his mind, he’s thinking faster than his body can react and soon he’s at the steps of the brothel and his eyes are wide and adrenaline is coursing so fast through his veins he could die at this moment if he weren't hell bent on saving Dan. The man who took Dan, the one who threw him out on his ass and threatened his life is no longer guarding the door. He sees his trembling white hand reaching out for the rusted handle on the abused looking door and turns it, quietly but quickly slipping in. No one’s in sight and all Phil can make out in the dark and dingy building is that people live here, there are clothes and worn shoes scattered everywhere, but it gives him a less than settling feeling. One thing is for certain though, he can hear the sickening sounds of pleasure and slurred words of hate and humiliation floating from somewhere upstairs in the building. All he can think of is Dan.

Nimbly racing up the cracked stairs, Phil pauses at a corner and breathes deeply, trying to steady himself before making what could be his last move. If Dan is in the room next to him, getting hurt and used by strangers, Phil doesn't know if he’ll be able to refrain himself from killing each and every one of them. He has to though, because they’re worthless to him and Dan is his life and the love of his life, his /everything/ and saving him is the number one priority. Before Phil can make that final turn around the corner and break up whatever hell is unleashing itself on Dan in that room, the door flies open and a strong odor seeps out that makes Phil’s nose wrinkle in disgust and guilt. Several men stumble out, a few looking well spent and a few looking so disgustingly excited Phil could kill them on the spot. One of the most eager looking men stop before Phil, place a hand on his shoulder and in a low and guttural voice say, “He’s all ready for ya, mate. Take it easy though, huh? We’ll be back for round two in a few minutes.” He finishes with a wink before walking down the stairs with the rest of the men. None of them were the man who attacked him before, and he feels a wave of relief wash over him. His senses come back though and he remembers that he has only minutes to save Dan before those men return and have their way with him again.

The door has been left open and Phil forces himself to enter, only to nearly vomit at the sight before him. On the marled looking bed, in a huddled and sweating lump lays Dan. He’s covered in fluids that Phil is certain aren’t his own and he’s crying so hard that he’s shaking. Phil is at his side in two strides and is scooping him up in his arms, fighting back tears of his own. His brother, who is naked bar the thin sheet covering him, is shivering in his arms and whimpering something softly between sobs.

“Dan? Dan can you hear me?” Phil  whispers as he carries him out of the room and down the hallway to an empty bedroom. It’s small and has a phone in the corner, and Phil almost cheers out lout when he sees that the door can lock from the inside, something the other doors appear unable to do. He shudders at the thought of what happens in this particular room that warrants the necessity for a lock. He lays Dan on the bed and cards his shaking hand through the thick brown curls that are now matted to his forehead. The younger flinches at the affection before opening his eyes. They immediately fill with tears and he’s fighting back hard sobs now. He can recognize that his older brother is here and real, he’s alive and saving him and he honestly doesn't know how to react.

“Dan? Please Dan…say something.” Phil whimpers, afraid Dan may not recognize him from all the drug abuse he’s been through. His worries are assuaged though as he feels Dan’s weak and thin fingers caress his cheek for a moment. Dan is smiling, genuinely smiling even though he looks like he’s about to cry. Phil smiles himself, widely and leans down to place a small kiss to his brother’s lips before scrambling for the phone in the corner and dialing the police.

“Y-yes please, we need help! Hurry please!” Phil finishes after informing them of their location. Dan is laying his head on the top of Phil’s hand and he feels ready to sleep now, truly and comfortably sleep after all they’ve been through. He wouldn't care if they died this instant, or if this all turned out to be a sick dream his drug induced mind has come up with. For now this is real and he is safe, he is home.

Phil rocks his brother’s sleeping form on the lumpy mattress as the sound of sirens surround the building. They can hear shouting and screaming, they can hear the evil men being taken away, they can hear the man who took Dan in the first place being thrown on the pavement. Chaos surrounds them, trying to penetrate the cocoon they’re in which is safe and happy. Amongst the screaming and painful sirens, Dan can hear Phil humming his favorite song softly in his ear and nothing in the world exists in that moment except the way his older brother’s arms feel around him. Nothing exists except the way their heartbeats are in time with each other. They are safe and Phil has saved his little brother, his Dan is safe now.

It is a week later and Dan is healthier looking. Phil has taken him to their aunt’s house and she’s been caring for the two of them, doting on them and apologizing profusely every chance she gets. Phil insists it isn't her fault, but she can't shake the guilt she feels whenever she sees the way Dan is still limping, still sore from everything he’s been through. Phil gets the same feeling, so he understands. Dan is curled up in his brother’s arms one night, breathing softly and listening intently to Phil’s heart beating against his cheek.

“Phil? I…I love you. Do I have to go?” He mumbles, his voice cracking a bit at the end. Phil squeezes him tighter against him as he sighs. He knows Dan is afraid to get better, because to get better he has to face the reality of everything that happened. He has to remember and that’s the most painful thing to go through for either of them.

“Yes love. I’ll be holding your hand the entire time though, every appointment and every session, I’ll be there. And Dan?”

“Yes?”

**“I love you too.”**


	6. Epilogue

It’s been about two years since Phil found Dan sick and dying in that brothel where he was trapped for so long. They’re still in love despite everything. The pain, heartache and generally wrongness of their entire lives just pushed them closer together. It had been okay in the beginning, right after Dan came home. He’d sleep in the same bed as Phil and Aunt Izzy never thought much of it; she thought Dan needed constant reassurance that he would be safe here. But after a while, innocent hugs under the duvet became something more, kisses and gasping and ‘No, you won’t hurt me. I want you to’.

She eventually found out. Aunt Isabelle couldn’t take it anymore and gave them time to move out on their own. Still guilt-ridden, she wasn’t rude about it. She simply told them that this kind of thing would not be tolerated in her home. Phil understood and started looking for a place that they could afford in his salary. 

Some might call it luck that their father died not long after. There was a small service and he was buried next to his wife. Dan had cried at the graveside because he was still his father and as much as he’d hurt them both, life is complicated; nothing black and white, just shades of gray. Phil cried at the sight of his mother’s gravestone. He hadn’t seen it since he was four years old. He ran his fingers over her name, etched in the stone work. He wondered if she forgave him for all that happened to Dan, her baby boy. 

After the funeral, a letter came addressed to Dan. It was an insurance policy which listed him as the sole beneficiary of £150,000. The money came as a shock, of course, but their father had been working his entire life and Dan was his only child.

They bought a flat in another town where no one would know them. Phil found a job at a bookstore and Dan worked two days a week right next to him. The people in their new home were tolerant and after a few questions, Phil quickly realized that everyone assumed they were a young married couple, as they had the same last name and seemed so deeply in love with each other. They didn’t bother correcting anyone.

Dan still went to therapy because years of repeated abuse didn’t make for a happy man who slept through the night or believed that everything would be okay. Several nights, he’d scream out. He’d scream for Phil and even when his brother held him close and told him he was right there, Dan wouldn’t stop. Dan would say that Phil would leave him again. The very thought sent him in a panic attack. Visions of the brothel and sex and rape and Daddy came rushing back. 

Eventually, the panic would pass and they would talk about it. Phil still has bad dreams too but he tries his hardest to conceal them. 

And on days when everything goes right, they’ll forget that they’re brothers and they’ll forget that everything is so wrong about their lives. These days are spent cuddling on the couch, eating way too much ice cream, kissing and touching. It’s hard to believe that everything will be okay but on these days, Dan and Phil can’t imagine anything but.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written about eleven months ago. It is a repost.


End file.
